


His Dog

by saeriibon



Category: Ace Combat
Genre: Dirty Talk, Humiliation, M/M, Pet Play, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-25
Updated: 2020-10-25
Packaged: 2021-03-09 06:36:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,479
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27199283
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/saeriibon/pseuds/saeriibon
Summary: releasing this fic to the public is my equivalent of rock lee dropping his leg weights during his fight with gaaraanywaysi'd like to apologize to my friends, my family, the ace combat fandom as a whole, god, and whoever reads this
Relationships: Bandog/Trigger
Comments: 1
Kudos: 5





	His Dog

Bandog sat at a desk in a small, dingy looking room, idly looking over some papers. In one hand, he twirled a glossy, black pen, in the other hand, he combed his fingers through the hair of the half-naked figure kneeling beside him. The figure was collared and leashed, the loop of dark leather tied to one of the legs of the chair on which Bandog sat. Crossing out a few words and circling others, Bandog placed his pen down, stretching a little as he cracked some of the stiffened muscles of his back and shoulders. “I suppose I should take a break…” he wondered out loud. He got out of his chair for a moment to untie the leash, tugging it a little to grab his companion’s attention, “Come on, boy.”

Trigger shifted off of his knees, having kept still for a good part of an hour now. Bandog placed a hand on his chest, pushing him back a little as Trigger braced his hands on the cold tile floor, exposing the rest of his torso for Bandog to touch. Calloused hands rubbed from his chest down to his stomach in large, circular motions as Bandog knelt over him. His breath hitched when he felt Bandog’s hand go lower, brushing over his crotch for a moment. The hands made their way along his inner thigh and stopped once they reached his kneecaps.

Shallow, red lines cut across his skin from the tiles on which he knelt. Bandog took the time to trace the grid-like pattern with his index finger, ghosting over them once before digging and dragging his nail over them again. He watched the muscles in Trigger’s legs twitch, enduring the minute torture as his breath quickened.

Even as Bandog drew a thin line of blood, Trigger neither moved away nor did he cry out. However, there was a flicker of worry in his eyes as he looked to Bandog.

The other man paused his ministrations, wiping some of the excess blood away with his thumb, before smirking, “I’m not going to hurt you _too_ much,” he reassured, “I still need you to be able to fly without issue, after all.” He looked down at his reddened fingers and back to Trigger’s glassy, dark blue eyes.

There was a moment of confusion as Trigger watched Bandog silently contemplate something before he felt his collar being pulled as he was seated upright again. He bit back a wince as he felt the scratch Bandog had left being dug into the coarse grout and tried to move it onto one of the smoother tiles. Before he could, he felt the pressure on his collar tighten as Bandog leaned back in his chair, the heel of his leather boot digging into Trigger’s chest as the leash was pulled taut.

“Trigger…” Bandog warned, “You were doing well up until this point. Don’t fuck it up now.”

With the barest hint of a whimper, Trigger relented, stilling his body as the sharp, stinging pain in his knee turned into a dull, throbbing ache. He did his best to ignore the _other_ throbbing sensation, but under the scrutinizing eyes of his jailer, no detail goes unnoticed. The boot on his chest moved lower, stroking and pressing into the tent of his boxer briefs as Bandog wordlessly taunted him, relishing the look on Trigger’s face as he fought back the urge to moan, to move his hips with Bandog’s motions.

Bandog reached down, relinquishing his hold on the leash so he could grip Trigger’s chin. He tilted Trigger’s flushed face upwards, a small bead of sweat inching down his temple, lips red from being bitten, eyes glazed over, but still containing a small spark of resolve, a desire to complete whatever duty was given to him. A model pilot. Bandog smiled darkly, bringing his blood-covered thumb to Trigger’s lips, “Clean it,” he ordered.

Trigger looked up at Bandog for a moment, then back to his thumb as dark eyelashes fluttered shut. A hesitant tongue slid out and gave a small lick to the drying blood from Bandog’s thumb. When he heard a pleased sound come from the man above him, he continued with more earnest, slick muscle working its way around and filling his mouth with the salty and metallic taste of his own blood and Bandog’s skin. Soon, the thumb was replaced with the index finger, which Trigger eagerly took to.

“Good boy…” Bandog purred, shifting in his seat as he felt his own cock burning in his pants. He licked his lips and chuckled as Trigger took the initiative to take his whole finger into his mouth, sucking it lightly as his tongue wrapped around it. Bandog curled his finger, making it dance with Trigger’s soft muscle as it grazed the inside of his cheeks and teeth. If it were anyone else, they’d be biting off his finger by now, but Trigger… always following orders and going above and beyond what was expected of him… It all made Bandog honestly doubt why Trigger was put here in the first place. He fingered Trigger’s mouth as he mused to himself, a slew of watery sounds filling the otherwise silent room before pulling his finger back, appreciating how Trigger almost seemed apprehensive about letting go as his head lolled forwards a little, a beaded strand of saliva connecting the two. Bandog wiped the moisture on his fingers off on his pant leg, “Heh, I suppose I should reward you now for how well you’ve been behaving, Spare 15.” His hands slowly made their way to his belt, unbuckling it with ease as they worked to unzip his pants, all the while he stared at Trigger, the other man’s attention focused on his fingers as they slid the hem of his pants and underwear off of his hips.

Trigger involuntarily gulped when Bandog’s hardened cock sprang free, and he felt his fists clench as they rested atop his thighs.

“Are you going to do something or are you just going to keep staring at it like a dumbass?” he quipped when he saw Trigger freeze.

Trigger blinked a few times before he tentatively gave it a few licks on its tip. Unlike Bandog’s fingers, his member was already wet, making his tongue slide over it with ease. The other difference was that it tasted much more bitter, the foreign taste slowing Trigger’s progress as he tried to get used to it. He felt a tug on his collar again as Bandog tsked.

“Come on, I know you can do better than that. A pretty boy like you has to have done this at least once or twice, right?” he sneered, trying to get a rise out of him. To Bandog’s disappointment, Trigger just stared back blankly. However, Trigger did do something that caught him off guard.

“What, exactly, do you want from me?”

Pushing aside his disbelief that Trigger actually talked for once, Bandog refocused, “Isn’t it obvious, you idiot?” He tugged the leash for emphasis.

Trigger blinked again, “Not like that…” he murmured.

“What did you say?” Bandog furrowed his brows, frustrated at the sudden halt in momentum, but still slightly curious as to what Trigger had to say.

“I mean…” Trigger started, “You tell me what to do and I do it. I’m rewarded for obeying, but sometimes it’s like… you… want me to act out, like how the others do… So, which one do you want…?” Each word was laid out carefully and purposefully as he searched Bandog’s face for an answer.

_‘What a pain in the ass_ …’ Bandog sighed as he dragged a hand down his face, “I don’t remember giving you permission to speak.”

“... Sorry,” Trigger whispered as he looked down.

“If you really want to apologize, then make up for the lost time. Maybe after that I’ll give you the answer you’re looking for.”

Trigger took a moment and nodded, licking Bandog’s cock with more fervor than before, working his way from its head and along the shaft to the base.

“Mm… That’s it…” Bandog groaned as Trigger started mouthing the sensitive skin. He felt his stomach clench when he saw how endearing Trigger looked, even when doing something so debased as this, his eyes closed in concentration, a faint pink coloring his cheeks. To think that this was Harling’s murderer. Bandog scoffed.

Trigger stopped and looked up at the noise, waiting expectantly for whatever task Bandog had for him next. He felt a hand weave its way through his hair, petting him with a surprising gentleness as it moved down his face. 

“Open your mouth,” Bandog’s curt order contrasted against his touch.

Trigger obliged and parted his lips, having to open them wider to accommodate for Bandog’s girth as it pushed its way in. Stifling his gag reflex, Trigger allowed Bandog to fully sheath himself inside of him.

A deep hum resounded in Bandog’s chest, “I’ll be honest, you’re taking this better than I expected. Well, we’ll see how you do once we start moving.” At that he tugged Trigger’s hair to pull him back before slamming his cock back into him.

Trigger whimpered as Bandog gripped his head, the feeling of skin being pulled and the back of his throat being pounded sent sparks across his body. His nails were beginning to dig into his palms as the need to take care of his own erection grew. Still, he kept them from wandering, aware of the fact that any action taken without clearance from Bandog would go poorly.

“So good… Fucking hell, Trigger. If I had known any better, I would’ve thought you ended up in prison for prostitution. You sure you’ve never done this before?” He said with a smirk. The only reply he got from his humiliating remarks was a stifled moan as Trigger’s lips slid along his length. “Such a good boy… I haven’t even needed to warn you about your teeth; not that I want to give you any ideas or anything,” Bandog twisted the leash around his other hand. He felt the heat inside of him grow to a boiling point. Trigger was really giving it his all… All for him. His thrusts grew faster, the legs on his chair beginning to scrape on the floor with each erratic buck of his hips. “F-fuck…” he cursed, hoping that no one outside of the room has taken notice yet. Even if someone were to suddenly barge in, it’s not like he can stop now. It’s not like he can’t take some pride in letting others know that he made the prisoner with three sin lines his bitch. Bandog bit down on his lip and grunted, that long-awaited high finally reaching its apex as his vision blurred, cock pulsing inside Trigger’s mouth.

Trigger felt thick liquid filling him with that same bitter taste from when he first licked Bandog’s member. His head was held in place for a while as the last few errant ropes made their way onto his tongue. He managed to catch a glimpse of Bandog’s face at that moment, a rare expression of ecstasy compared to his usual condescending smirk or irritated scowl. It wasn’t there for long, regrettably, as Bandog regained composure with a satisfied sigh once again. The hand in his hair moved to grip his chin so that Bandog could hold Trigger’s mouth shut as he finally dragged his cock out.

“Swallow.”

Trigger willed his body to follow, tilting his head up so that the cum could slide more easily down his throat. With a few bobs of his Adam’s apple, he opened his mouth to present the emptied cavity, pink tongue sliding out as a drop of saliva fell from it.

“Good… good boy… I suppose a treat is in order.” Bandog’s gaze trailed down Trigger’s exposed chest to his underwear, the faintest hint of movement inside as his covered member twitched in anticipation. He noticed that the knuckles of Trigger’s fists had turned white, making it clear that Trigger had been holding himself back for a while now. “Hm… What should your treat be, I wonder?” Bandog thoughtfully fiddled with the leash.

A shaky breath was exhaled from Trigger’s nose as he whined, impatience settling in. He felt the pull of the leash once again, bringing him up and onto Bandog’s lap.

“Easy, boy…” Bandog cooed as he lazily circled a finger around one of Trigger’s pert nipples. “I know… How about you relieve yourself for me? It’s only fair that the pet should have as much fun as the owner, right, Trigger?” he pinched the nipple he was touching.

Trigger arched his back and mewled, thighs clenching as he struggled to stay on top of Bandog. When he reached down to try and touch himself, Bandog harshly pulled him so he laid flush against his chest.

“I didn’t say anything about using your hands,” Bandog growled in his ear.

Trigger gulped and nodded silently, burying his face into the crook of Bandog’s neck as he wrapped his arms around him. As soon as he could get a good grip, he began grinding his hips into Bandog, wanton breaths ghosting across the other man’s skin. It didn’t take long for him to come, the build up to this point and friction between his underwear and Bandog’s torso being enough to send him shuddering with a gasp, a dark stain spreading where the tip of his cock was. As he slumped against Bandog’s chest, he felt a rough hand pet up and down his back.

“There’s a few things we still need to work on,” Bandog whispered in Trigger’s ear, “but we’ll save that for another time… I’ve still got paperwork to finish,” Bandog glanced derisively at the stack of documents on his desk. He felt Trigger nuzzle him beneath his chin, a tired whine hitching in his throat. Bandog chuckled, “You still want more play time, boy?”

Trigger whined louder, boldly licking Bandog’s neck in affirmation.

“Heh, too bad,” Bandog tugged Trigger back, “Down, boy.”

Disheartened, Trigger obeyed, slowly sliding off of Bandog and back to his original kneeling position on the floor. 

After pulling up and buckling his pants, Bandog tied the leash to one of the legs of the chair again, about to turn back to finish his work when he noticed Trigger staring at him expectantly. Oh, right. That “answer” he was going to give. Bandog pursed his lips. “You’re not like the others, Trigger,” he began, “Maybe I’m just not used to dealing with someone as compliant as you. I… Why do you care, anyway?”

Trigger tilted his head, as if the answer was obvious, “I just want to make sure that what I’m doing… makes you happy…”

“That’s it?”

Trigger rested his chin on Bandog’s leg, “Yes.”

Bandog sighed and shook his head, “You really are a dog aren’t you?”

**Author's Note:**

> change da world.... my final message.... goodbye....


End file.
